Dark Maiden
by Yunagirlamy
Summary: Disney based. A young maid, Melanie, is ordered by her master, the new Minister of Judge, to go undercover as a Gypsy and live in the Court of Miracles in order to find out the Gypsies weakness. But does she question her duties?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: All characters who did not appear in the original Victor Hugo novel or the Disney film belong to me. _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ belongs to Victor Hugo and Disney.**

He should have been happy for her, happy for _them_. However, the longer he mused on it, the more that depression radiated through his body. He desperately worked not to show it on his face, though. The ecstatic expression on his adopted daughter turned sister's face was enough to force a smile upon his face. Besides, the smile wasn't _entirely_ unnatural; to see Esmeralda being married to a man she loved made him happier than what an alcoholic would be with a lifetime supply of beer. What made his happiness slightly dampen was the man that Esmeralda was marrying.

He wasn't a Gypsy, and therefore, could not be trusted – regardless of whether or not he was marrying a Gypsy. What made it worse that he was the Captain of the Guard, so it was worrying that he really _was_ a spy, and was only marrying Esmeralda to gain more information on Gypsies.

"Clopin?"

Clopin looked up, somewhat annoyed at being interrupted from his thoughts. Nonetheless, he had a marriage to carry out; it was his duty as King of the Gypsies and as the only relation Esmeralda would _ever_ come close to. Clopin still remembered the day he had discovered Esmeralda. She was a small child, around five years of age, abandoned by her parents simply because she looked like a Gypsy (Esmeralda had the memory of being told this by her mother). Clopin had not hesitated to take the small child his wing and it wasn't as if he had any choice in the matter of raising her. She'd clung to his leg and through her tears, had begged him to not leave her. Even though Clopin was only a young lad of fifteen, he complied with her wish and as the years went on, a father and daughter type relationship formed between the two. However, by the time Esmeralda had reached the age of eighteen, a father and daughter type relationship had faded and instead, had grown into a brother and sister type relationship.

"I am sorry, Esmeralda," Clopin remarked in the gentlest voice he could manage. "I was lost within my thoughts." His comment earned a soft laugh from Esmeralda and an irritated glare from her husband to be beside her.

Clopin could tell that Phoebus was eager to be married to Esmeralda. As he had informed Clopin, he fell in love with Esmeralda the first moment he had set his eyes upon her. Clopin had listened but barely interested. He had never fallen in love before, so he could not relate to anything that Phoebus told him.

Clopin sent a small glare to Phoebus and then a grin lit his face. His right hand was clutching Esmeralda's right hand, whilst his left hand had hold (but only vaguely) of Phoebus' left hand.

Glancing at the crowd, Clopin spotted Quasimodo at the far back. His look was one of pleasure, but Clopin could see behind the mask. He knew that Quasimodo was only smiling for Esmeralda's sake. Clopin had not missed the pained and broken-hearted expressions Quasimodo sent to Esmeralda every so often. If he was being honest, Clopin would have rather seen _Quasimodo_ marrying Esmeralda, not Phoebus. Whilst Clopin knew Phoebus would take _very _good care of Esmeralda, he was also aware that Quasimodo would probably stop at nothing to make Esmeralda happy. Being here at the wedding made Esmeralda happy.

Resisting the temptation to send Phoebus crashing to the floor, Clopin reluctantly brought Esmeralda and Phoebus' hands' together whilst proclaiming, "You are now husband and wife."

Cheers erupted in the Court, with some mutters of disapproval added to the mix. Esmeralda and Phoebus ignored both reactions as they were in their own world. Clopin would soon change that. He grabbed a fistful of Phoebus' shirt and pulled the man close to him. Darkly, Clopin told him, "If _any_thing happens to Esmeralda, I will hold you personally responsible. That's not a threat, that's a promise." Clopin let go of him just as quickly as he had grabbed him. Esmeralda shot him a censorious glance with a shake of the head. Clopin only shrugged his shoulders and flashed a grin. Esmeralda then led her new husband away from the platform; no doubt that they had gone to prepare for the party that would be held later in their honour.

Clopin had seen to it that the party would be the greatest party the Court of Miracles had ever seen. Clopin made sure that only a small amount of alcohol would be allowed – he didn't want any drunken stupors or fights. Of course, that did not mean that he would not consume any alcohol himself; it seemed a sin to keep a man away from alcohol. That in mind, Clopin remembered that a few women liked to drink, too. Not that there was anything wrong with _that_. Clopin would make sure that only Esmeralda and Phoebus would stay away from the alcohol – and especially Esmeralda.

Looking around the Court, Clopin saw that people were making no effort to get ready for the party. All they were doing was standing and talking amongst themselves, whilst some children ran around chasing each other. Clopin clicked his tongue in exasperation and then, clapping his hands loudly together, announced in a big voice, "People! Why are you wasting precious time? There is a party to prepare for!"

Many people made noises of agreement and then they all went their separate ways; some went to decorate the place, some went to cook the food, whilst some went to fetch the alcohol. Clopin made sure that _every_one had their own little job to do. The children all had the same job – putting flowers _any_where. It was the simplest job Clopin could think of for the children to do. Surely, they could not mess something so easy up?

A strident crash was heard and straight after, angry voices of some children.

Making his way towards those children, Clopin seriously began to doubt himself.

_Never having children_, he promised himself.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All characters who did not appear in the original Victor Hugo novel or the Disney film belong to me. **_**The Hunchback of Notre Dame**_** belongs to Victor Hugo and Disney.**

**WARNING: Contains language which people may find offensive. **

The city of Paris wasn't at all what Melanie was expecting it to be. She was not expecting it to be overridden with _filthy _gypsies. Everywhere she looked, there was at least one gypsy, performing a diabolical act of some kind. Honestly, why could they not just stop their heathen ways and earn money without connecting with Satan?

"Look at the soiled pests everywhere, Melanie."

She did not _want_ to look.

"It's very lucky that you are a maid. If you weren't, you might be mistaken for one of them."

Oh, _how_ she wished her skin was not as black as the night. People often _did_ mistake her for a gypsy girl. Thank the Lord that her master was always quick to correct them. Melanie did not know what she would do without her master. It was he who took her in when she was an abandoned child of three; she had only been a maid since the age of seven.

"I agree, sir. The streets of Paris need to be cleansed." Melanie looked up to her master, who was perched on his white horse. Melanie was standing by the horse, her hands folded in her lap.

"Indeed, Melanie. Well, thank God that I am the new minister of judge then."

Melanie bowed her head in acknowledgement. Then, bringing her head back up, she spotted a tall building – one that seemed to reach to the Heavens themselves. She restrained herself from running towards it, and instead asked, "Master, what is that magnificent building over there?"

"Ah, I am glad you asked, Melanie. _That_ is Notre Dame Cathedral."

It was a House of God! It was no wonder that it was a beautiful building then. Melanie felt a smile upon her face as she stared in wonderment at the cathedral. She couldn't see much of its detail from where they were standing, but nonetheless, it was still amazing.

"Can we go and see it, sir?" Melanie questioned politely.

Her master nodded. "Yes, but later, Melanie. First, we must find the Palace of Justice."

Melanie let out a sigh of disappointment, but she understood her master's actions. He wanted to arrive at the Palace of Justice in order to get settled in. He also needed somewhere to put his horse; if he left it unattended in the streets, a Gypsy would steal it. Melanie knew that a Gypsy would steal _any_thing, just to spite people.

Gypsies were a bunch of evil creatures; the work of the Devil. They refused to be purified by God and so, they would spend their eternal lives in Hell. Melanie thought that Gypsies would not mind this – Hell was where Gypsies came from, so they would _enjoy_ it there. Only creations of the Devil could enjoy Hell.

A shiver went through Melanie's body at the thought of Hell. It did not go unnoticed.

"Is the wind too cold for you, Melanie? Or is something the matter?"

"I was… thinking of the pits of Satan… sir," Melanie answered remorsefully. "I am truly sorry." To Melanie's surprise, her master let out a hearty chuckle.

"Do not blame yourself, child. We _are_ walking amongst the Devil's creations. They were bound to contaminate your thoughts sooner or later."

Melanie narrowed her brown eyes at a Gypsy walking by. "Dirty creature…" she whispered, whilst twirling a lock of black hair around her finger. She wished that there was some way of changing hair colour – she had _all_ the traits of a Gypsy. However, that wasn't Melanie's fault. Her parents were from India, and then they travelled to Germany; Melanie was glad that they abandoned her, though. If they didn't, she'd be a Gypsy… the thought terrified her.

"Maybe we should ask a guard for directions to the Palace of Justice," Melanie suggested.

Her master nodded. "Yes, it seems that would be the wisest choice." He hopped off his horse. "Excuse me!" he yelled to a guard walking nearby. The guard stopped and made his way over to the pair. "Do you know where the Palace of Justice is? I am the new Minister of Judge."

The guard's face was one of glee.

"O-Oh! Of course! Follow me, sir!" The guard seemed to ignore Melanie. She paid _him_ no mind either, though. Sometimes it was better to not be noticed.

"How are you finding Paris, Melanie?" her master asked, gazing down at her with his ice-blue eyes. The gentle wind shifted his brown hair faintly. His judge robe billowed about in the wind, as did Melanie's maid outfit.

The sound of the guard's armour clanking was mixed with the sounds of townspeople talking and some Gypsy's instrument.

Melanie did not meet his eyes, and instead stared down to the ground; her hands folded in her lap. "It _would_ be amazing, sir, if it were not for the Gypsy pests."

"Well, don't you worry, my little Melanie. Paris shall soon be rid of _them_."

"_All _the Gypsies, sir?" Melanie could not hide the excitement lining her voice. To be living in a world without Gypsies was her dream. The world was imperfect right now—but ridding the world of the demons it suffered would make it perfect. No more Gypsies to ever have to worry about.

"Every… single… last… _one_."

"H-Here we are, sir," the guard announced, performing a salute.

"Thank you," the Judge replied, bowing his head slightly. Then ever so gracefully, he swung his leg round and jumped from off his white horse. He grabbed the reins and directed the horse to Melanie. "Melanie, see if you can find the stables. If you can't, then don't hesitate to ask this nice guard."

Melanie nodded whilst taking hold of the reins. "Of course, sir."

"I thought that she was a Gypsy…" It was mumbled, but Melanie and the Judge heard what he said. The Judge rounded on the guard and Melanie sent him the meanest glower she could muster.

"She may share the same skin colour as a Gypsy, but she is far from being a demon sent from Hell. You will respect Melanie with the respect she deserves. If she asks anything—and I mean _any_thing—then you do not question her. Am I understood?"

"Y-Yes, sir. Loud and clear." The guard saluted once more. "W-Would you like me to show you t-to the stables?"

A smirk lined Melanie's features, and she whipped around. Then she started to walk off in the direction of the stables. "I know where the stables are. They are always behind a house on the right-hand side."

"B-But what if they're not?"

Melanie turned to face the guard. "Trust me, they always are. And we need to work on that stutter you have."

"First we rid of the Gypsies, Melanie," her master reminded her.

"Yes, sir."

Once Paris was rid of its demons, then they could rid all of France of its demons.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All characters who did not appear in the original Victor Hugo novel or the Disney film belong to me. **_**The Hunchback of Notre Dame**_** belongs to Victor Hugo and Disney.**

**WARNING: Contains language which people may find offensive. **

Melanie petted the horse and smiled gently. "Don't worry, Arthur," she remarked, "we will be rid of all Gypsies' soon. You're lucky that there aren't any horse gypsies…" A look of wonderment came upon Melanie's face as she realised something. Then she smiled again. "But do not be afraid; if there _are_ any horse gypsies, we'll kill them, too." Her hand returned to her side. "It was nice talking to you, Arthur." Bidding the horse goodbye, Melanie turned around and walked into her new home – the Palace of Justice.

As she kept her dark brown eyes focused on it, a shiver ran down her spine. She had heard many tales about this place. Numerous people – hopefully Gypsies' – had been tortured here, been made to live out their final days here.

All thanks to Judge Claude Frollo—a man that Melanie admired greatly. She'd heard countless stories of his actions; how he'd hung twenty Gypsies' in one day, set fire to a _whole_ camp of caravans—even set fire to the whole of _Paris_, determined to find a Gypsy! That's how dedicated he was to making Paris a safe place from heathen swine. It was _thanks_ to those heathens that Judge Frollo was dead. The fault of _one_ Gypsy; a female Gypsy.

A grimace set on Melanie's face as she thought of that Gypsy. She had heard about her—flowing raven hair that shone brightly underneath the sun, eyes like emeralds, and skin the colour of _dirt_. That was where she was going to be resting once Melanie was through with her. She would torture the Gypsy until she could see no more, speak no more, hear no more and walk no more.

Making a mental note to remind her master of this particular Gypsy, Melanie entered the Palace of Justice. She gazed around in awe – she stood in a hallway with a ceiling that stood high over her head. Majestic portraits of past Judges hung on the wall. Melanie quickly found the portrait of Judge Frollo; he sat with his hands folded in his lap. His brown eyes seemed to burn into Melanie. His bony cheeks accented his age, meaning he was a man with experience, wisdom and heaps of knowledge.

"Ah, Melanie, I see you have met the previous Judge," said her master besides her. "He was truly a great man."

"What are we going to do to the Gypsy that caused his death?" Melanie questioned, looking at her master. He was much younger compared to Judge Frollo. Whereas Judge Frollo was a man in his fifties, her master—Judge Aldric Deemer—was a young man of thirty. His cheeks blended into his face, rounding it softly. His ice–blue eyes sparkled with youth, which was proven by his brown hair.

"Nothing yet, my dear," Judge Aldric answered, surprising Melanie. He beckoned for Melanie to follow him, to which she obeyed. They kept on walking until they arrived in a room with a massive fireplace.

"But why _not_?" Melanie asked. Judge Aldric turned around to glare at her. Melanie's cheeks flushed with embarrassment—she had forgotten her place.

"I am willing to turn a blind eye to that outburst, Melanie."

Melanie bowed her head down. "Yes, master."

With a warning glare, her master turned his back on Melanie and walked up to the fireplace. "As I was saying, we shall nothing _yet_ to the Gypsy Esmeralda. I have a plan, you see, Melanie. A cunning plan that will kill every single Gypsy in Paris. A plan that shall wipe them all out at once." Her master faced her. "A plan that requires _you_, Melanie."

"_Me_? Whatever for?" Melanie was, to say the least, shocked.

Her master placed his hands on Melanie's shoulder; scheming ice–blue eyes met questioning brown eyes. With a devious smile, Judge Aldric Deemer relayed his plans to Melanie Schwartz.

* * *

These children were going to be the death of him. He just knew it.

"Ferka, watch where you're going with those!"

And people wondered why he didn't have an heir yet.

"Luca, be careful!"

They were just bothersome creatures.

"Luminitsa, don't you dare drop that!"

Sure, Esmeralda was a mischievous child.

"Tsura, get away from the alcohol!"

But not as mischievous as _this_. Shaking his head and sighing, Clopin marched over to the group of children. "Could you _not_ try and ruin this?" He demanded. "This is important to Esmeralda, and we don't want to upset Esmeralda, do we?" The children shook their heads. "Well be on your best behaviour." The children nodded their heads and then ran off. Rolling his eyes, Clopin set to arranging the flowers properly – the children had set them up at a peculiar angle.

"Clopin!"

As soon as he turned around, Clopin immediately found himself being pulled into a warm embrace. "_Esmeralda_," Clopin said, putting on a mock stern expression and pulling away from the hug. "You are not supposed to be here yet," he playfully scolded.

Esmeralda bit her lip and let out a little laugh. "I _know_, but I wanted to make sure that… well…"

"That everything is perfect?" Clopin crossed his arms.

Esmeralda nodded her head. "Yes! Have you seen Quasi?"

Clopin shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Why?"

"I need to know if he's alright." Esmeralda looked truly concerned.

"Esme, Quasimodo is a big boy. He can look after himself—"

"—but some people might be cruel to him!"

Clopin shook his head once more. "Not in my presence. I have warned everyone that the slightest jibe will have severe consequences."

Esmeralda grinned. "Thank you, Clopin!" She once more wrapped her arms around Clopin. After a couple of seconds, the two broke apart.

"So, where is your _husband_?" Clopin asked with an arched eyebrow. Esmeralda rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Clopin, don't be like that. You know you'll always be the number one man in my life."

Clopin nodded. "Indeed I shall."

"Unless I have a son, of course," and before Clopin could answer, Esmeralda turned and ran away.

"… _What_?"

Was Esmeralda with child _already_? Oh, he was going to _kill_ that man! The nerve of him!

"Err, Clopin?"

Clopin turned to see Phoebus. With narrowed eyes, Clopin lunged at Phoebus and pinned him up against the wall. Phoebus struggled underneath his grasp, but the Gypsy King was fuelled by anger, thus making him momentarily stronger. As he kept Phoebus pinned to the wall, all the malicious things that Clopin was going to do to him ran through his mind.

"C-Clopin… what have I… _done_?"

Clopin snarled, tightening his grip. "You know _perfectly_ well what you have done!"

"N-No! I _don't_! Care to inform me?"

Clopin frowned, but answered his question anyway. "Esmeralda is with your child, isn't she?"

"_What_?" The tone was the same as Clopin's was a few minutes before. "No she isn't! We haven't even _thought_ about that yet!"

"Oh." Clopin let go of Phoebus and grinned at him. "That's good then. _Bye_!" As he practically skipped away, Phoebus looked on, rubbing his wrist.

"What a strange man…"


End file.
